When you see two people fucking, with a capital F—really sharing the spoils the way it should be—who cares if the Company has gathered at three o’clock on a Monday to hear the top dog give his all-hands spiel? You look, godammit, and you probably laugh. That’s the human thing to do.… Continue Reading
She felt like she’d been folded up and stuck inside herself like a piece of origami. Like she was an empty shell, inhabiting someone else’s body the Earth, and attempting to exist like a normal human. Maybe she’d lost her autonomy. Maybe an alien had taken over her body and she didn’t realize it until now but it was too late to regain control.… Continue Reading
It was embarrassing, sprinting in his shiny funeral suit, trailing the paper kite over the hillocks. And from this he gained some sense of the ridiculous and the infantile that fathers persevered through for little-ones too young to recognise it as anything other than wondrous.… Continue Reading
Mark smells the shit before he sees it. Mrs. Friedman is naked on the beige carpet, leaning on her loveseat covered in flowered upholstery, her silver hair staining red. She is holding a dirty diaper in her hand. “What were you doing out of bed, Mrs. Friedman? Looking for a midnight snack?” “It’s none of your fucking business.”… Continue Reading
How does one become a zombie? Hmm. All of us have unique stories, but one way or another, we end up losing our homes and possessions, so we take to the streets. Street life is hard. Some zombies get better, their situations reverse, but most of us keep getting worse. Our memories fade, speech gets slurred. It’s a common story, really. There are more of us around than you think.… Continue Reading
He called out sexism and misogyny everywhere; occasionally even in his own family. Once, he stunned his mother by explaining how she had been the victim of domestic abuse. “You don’t understand,” he told her. “Father manipulated you into thinking you wanted to stay home. That was his way of keeping you under control. He was a textbook emotional abuser.”… Continue Reading
There is, in an anthill, a logic, an architecture, beyond what humans can conceive of. The ants, without thought, build from the order in their souls placed into them by the divine.… Continue Reading
Forty-seven-year-olds got no business dating thirty-four-year-olds. But at this point, you have no idea he’s only thirty-four. You sense he’s probably younger than you, but y’all had the Inspector Gadget moment, and melanin is a bitch for age identification. You want a man, but you don’t want to rob the cradle. The apps suck, but at least they provide basic information, like education, location. Age.… Continue Reading
The tabloids liked to point out his “shining good looks.” What good looks he had indeed. His smile was not quite natural—by design. Jeffrey knew that a true smile would not play well on screen. People wanted to see themselves in your teeth; you had to let those bad boys out.… Continue Reading
There was no need to ask why he was crazy about her again, in his romantic, foolish, desperate way; in a world where trying to persuade someone that love without irresistible physical attraction is possible, was like preaching in the wilderness.… Continue Reading